Gone the Other Way
by HomeschoolGirl
Summary: Katniss Everdeen used to be the girl on fire, but now she's anything but. She's lost her grasp on life. With Peeta, there were good things. But then, being in Twelve, with him, made the bad almost unbearable. So that's why Katniss isn't with Peeta anymore. Quite the opposite. Her new life in District Four is mind-numbing, boring in a good way. She thinks.


Another _Hunger Games_ fanfic, here we go! Gah, I have NO idea where this is going. Let me know what you think. Reviews are motivating! :D So, uh, yeah! Let me know if you think this has potential, if you'd like to read more. Oh, and the Rule of the Chapter-the amazing song listed below is REQUIRED listening! Okay, not really. I mean, I can't make you listen to it. But I love it and so should you. Okay, that's not fair, either. How about this: I love it and I'd love if you'd listen to it! And let me know what you think. :) A Fine Frenzy is awesome! _  
_

Thanks!

-Homey

**Disclaimer**: You know the drill. I do not own any of these characters. They belong to Suzanne Collins.

©HomeschoolGirl 2012, or at least this actual post is. The characters, not so much. But anyway, please don't use this as your own. Thanks!

* * *

_Near to you I am healing but it's taking so long _

_And though he's gone and you are wonderful it's hard to move on_

-Near to You, by A Fine Frenzy_  
_

* * *

Gale went to work today.

If I weren't so frustratingly sensible, I'd have told him to stay home. Begged, if I needed to. He wouldn't have listened. We're too alike in that way. He knows I'll forgive him after a good five minutes of silent, suppressed anger. Then that will all wash away and I'll meet him for a lunch of goat cheese and warm bread.

I stand at the counter of our modest little home, cutting steaming slices of a loaf. I cheated and brought some from District Four's bakery today. Despite having a slight fishy taste (everything does over here) it's still ten times better than what I can make. My bread is always too dense, a bit burned on the outside, underdone in the center. Gale never complains.

I pack it all in a picnic basket and walk outside, swinging the basket slightly at my side. It's a beautiful day—all sunshine and warmth. I still find them hard to enjoy. People call out to me as I pass by. They know me here, almost as well as they did in Twelve. The difference now lies in the new government, the warm friendly faces, rid of starvation. It's a pleasant sight.

When Gale left for Two three years ago, I was certain I'd never see him again. I thought he'd find a pretty girl to call his own, marry her, and have lots of pretty-girl's equally pretty children. Not quite. I paid a visit to Four a little over a year ago and he also happened to be here. Our emotions bubbled over and we found ourselves spending the whole weekend together.

The hardest part of it all was letting Peeta go. I'd come to trust him, more than anyone in this world. I still do. But I needed to get away from the ghosts that haunted me, made me bitter. So I packed all my things and announced my move. He pleaded with me, tried to convince me, said we'd move together.

I just wanted solitude.

Four welcomed me with open arms. And when Gale moved districts, to here, following his high-paying, time-consuming job we kind of fell into each other. It wasn't long before I was waking up beside him every morning, before he was calling me his, before we inexplicably became one. Because wasn't that always supposed to happen?

I forgave him for the bombs that ended my sister's life. You can't hold something like that over someone. It was easier to forget.

He works on weaponry for the government, Gale does, spending all his days dreaming up ways to ward off attacks. I constantly tell him I want him to have a more mild job, but he says he loves what he does.

He's already waiting outside for me, in front of the building he calls home. He kisses me gently and comments on the weather.

"It's nice," I agree, and then we sit on the steps and smear the bread with the cheese, stuffing it in our mouths.

We both grew up knowing hunger, so this sort of thing still remains to be savored. All of our bounty is gone within minutes. Gale catches my face in his hands before I've even finished swallowing my last bite and kisses me deeply.

"Okay," I say as I pull back, wiping crumbs from my mouth.

"I have a surprise," he says as I stand to go.

I look down at him. "I don't much care for surprises."

He laughs. "I know. So I'll tell you."

"What?"

"I'm taking three days off to celebrate something very special next week."

I sit back down, intrigued. "And that is…?"

"Only you could forget your birthday, Katniss."

"Oh. That?" I shake my head. "It's nothing special."

"I think it is," he argues, and I'm forced to smile.

"What are we going to do?"

He places his hand on my thin, angular hip and turns me to him. "All sorts of things. I'm thinking of a trip to the Capitol, bed and breakfast, your favorite stew."

"That sounds nice," I reply a bit breathlessly.

"It will be," he promises. "We leave in two days. So go on and pack. You can even buy a new dress if you'd like."

I wrinkle my nose. "No thanks."

"I figured as much; you never were one for frivolous things."

"And I'm going to stay that way," I declare, standing once more and bringing the basket with me. "Have a good day."

"I will. I'll see you tonight." He shoots me an apologetic look. "I'll probably be late. There's no use waiting up."

"Okay." The word comes out very meek, very small.

"I love you."

I don't answer as I turn and begin walking back, knowing he does not expect one. I've never said those words to him before, not once. I found them easier to think, to keep bottled up in my head where they can only escape if I let them.

I won't.

Nowadays I don't hunt like I used to. With our combined incomes (mine from winning the Games, Gale's from work) we are able to buy butcher meet, a luxury unavailable to us before. I still think fresh tastes better, so occasionally I will take to the woods with my bow and a sheath of arrows. I'll shoot a plump rabbit or a fat squirrel, skin them right there, on the sun-warmed rocks, and stuff myself.

There's a large fish market in Four, so I do a lot of that, too. It's relaxing, a bit slow-paced for my liking, but when my memories haunt me, it's the perfect escape. I've only been a few times, twice by myself, once with Annie Cresta.

Finnick's widow is beside herself with grief, perhaps even more so than me. But she has a baby—a son—to ground her. Every time she begins to slip away, a cry of his or his face pressed against hers brings her back to earth. To now.

Annie is mad, though. She talks to herself constantly and sees things that aren't there. But I've come to realize we're all a little crazy—some of us more than others.

I decide to visit Annie on my way back, needing someone to brighten my damp spirits. She's outside, watering her garden. Finnick's son, Daniel, is strapped to her with an old bedsheet.

"Hello, Katniss," she says warmly as I approach.

I give her a nod. "Hi."

"Have you been visiting with Gale?" She hums under her breath as she stoops over to pull a weed from the ground.

"Yeah. He says we're going to visit the Capitol for my birthday."

Her eyes meet mine. "Oh…" And then I see it, overcoming her, as her eyes cloud and she lets out a whimper. Daniel pats her face and just like that, she's fine again. Happened in less than ten seconds.

"I'll make tea, if you'll come in," she whispers hoarsely.

"No, I'd better get along." I bend over so we're face-to-face, forced to look into each other's eyes. "Stay well, Annie."

She mumbles a vague reply and I turn, walk back to the house, and climb right into bed. Because I can feel the ghosts coming back, seeping through the cracks in my armor. I can feel them haunting me.

* * *

Gale wakes me with a kiss. After a fitful sleep, wakefulness is welcomed. I had one of those horrific, numbing nightmares that are too dull to rouse you, but frightening all the same. One moment I am digging Peeta out from under bloodstained rubble, and the next my lips are moving, responding naturally to someone else's.

"Gale," I breathe when I open my eyes. His are the same shade as mine. They manage to look livelier, though.

"Katniss," he says in an equally breathless tone. His hands find mine under the blankets and he pulls me into a sitting position. "You were having a nightmare."

I nod.

"And…?" He continues.

I start to tell him, because it helps, but stop myself after the first few words. Peeta is a sore subject in this house. I hardly ever let his name leave my lips, sweet like syrup on my tongue. Because the aftermath of that name is anything but sweet.

"I don't remember it," I lie at last.

"Oh. Well, I'm getting something to eat," Gale says after a pause.

I smile at him. "I'll join you."

So we sit and eat, both lackluster. It's Sunday evening. I know most girlfriends of handsome guys like Gale would be doing far more exciting things at this hour. But I'm not one of those girls. Even kisses leave me incredibly drained. So I shovel in hearty amounts of bread and grain, thinking it can't hurt for me to gorge myself.

It can't hurt at all.


End file.
